If You Love These People
by everythingsfine18
Summary: A series of drabbles/one-shots of Serena and Bernie. Some date nights, awkward/uncomfortable/unexpected moments on the ward, possible family get-togethers, etc. Mostly right after 19x07, "The Kill List."
1. Little Talks

**A/N** Hey there! This is my first Berena fic, as I'm pretty new to the fandom. I hope you all enjoy these little pieces! Would love to know what's working/what could use improvement!

* * *

A bookstore is where is happens; where the women bump into one another. Literally. Serena's nose is buried in a book of French phrases when she trips and collides against Bernie's sturdy form. Her bag drops and all of her belongings scatter across the floor. Serena blushes when she realizes what's happened, mortified at her own carelessness. When Bernie attempts to help Serena, Serena avoids eye contact and hastily gathers her things.

Serena tosses the book onto a table and rushes out of the little shop, her cheeks flaming and her eyes stinging. She hears the door open behind her and the bells chime as Bernie trots after her. She hears Bernie call her name, but she ignores it. Only when she feels the familiar touch of Bernie's hand on her shoulder does Serena come to a halt.

"Serena," the former military doctor sighs. She's been back from Kiev for a week now. Every day that she sees Serena at work, images of their kiss upon her return flicker in her mind. But she's been keeping her distance from Serena lately, giving her space. Though whether it's more for Serena's benefit or her own, Bernie's not sure. "Serena, please?"

Only because she doesn't wish to make a scene in the middle of the street, Serena turns to face Bernie. And just like that, her heart does a somersault at the very sight of the blonde woman; her lips are pressed together in a tight line and her eyes are filled with concern. A black scarf drapes over her chest as she stands with her hands now in both coat pockets, as if she's afraid to make any sudden movements— because she's afraid to make any sudden movements.

"Dr. Wolfe," Serena greets curtly. Bernie winces at the formality and looks down at her boots. When Bernie stays silent Serena nods and says, "Right, well, if you haven't anything to say, I'd best be going. I've left Jason waiting at home and he's quite—"

"I've missed you," Bernie says suddenly with closed eyes. Tentatively, she looks up at Serena, only to find that the woman is stone-faced. "I'm sorry. I- I should go."

Bernie starts to walk away and mentally chastises herself for her own foolishness. She just makes it onto the sidewalk when she hears Serena reply, "Is that all you've got to say?" Bernie turns around and watches as Serena walks towards her. "You've not said a word to me in days, not a single word. No calls, no messages." Serena scoffs angrily. "It's as if you've left all over again."

Bernie shakes her head. "I- I thought—"

"Do you know what the worst part is?" Serena cuts Bernie off in a huff. "I've fallen for you twice and you can't do me the decency of at least looking my way."

"Serena," Bernie murmurs.

"Here we are once again," Serena grumbles as she throws her hands in the air, "me groveling at your feet."

"I didn't mean to— I was trying to make things better," Bernie offers anxiously. "I thought to give you room. I didn't want you to feel…"

"To feel what?" Serena asks.

Bernie crosses her arms and shrugs, her bangs dancing across her forehead. "I'm sorry," she finally says. "I can't seem to do any of this right, can I?" she whispers, just loud enough for Serena to hear. And then, slowly, Serena starts to understand. Bernie's words fit together, and for the first time in a long time, Serena sees Bernie.

Serena's shoulders relax as she takes a step towards Bernie. "It does take two to tango, you know," she pipes.

"But it only takes one to screw it all up."

Serena glances around and suddenly remembers how public they've been. As strangers walk past, their wandering eyes giving away their curiosity, Serena feels her cheeks go red again. "Perhaps we ought to discuss this somewhere else." As if she's just noticed their surroundings, Bernie nods.

After considering it for a moment, Bernie makes the next move and closes the space between them. Her arms dangling at her sides, she slowly and carefully reaches for Serena's hand. She's longed for Serena's touch for days. But she knows how much she's hurt Serena; she can't bear the thought of doing it again.

When Serena doesn't reciprocate the gesture, Bernie does her best to hide her disappointment. Side-by-side they begin to walk back to Serena's parked car. But then, without warning, Bernie feels a hand slide into her hand. As Serena's fingers intertwine with her own, Bernie holds tight because this time, she has no intention of ever letting go.


	2. Made of Steel

**Summary:**

Bernie and Serena are on their way to Paris for a bit. What happens when one of them is a bit antsy on the flight with no Shiraz for comfort?

* * *

They sat right beside one another on the plane. Their elbows shared the thin arm rest between them, their hands clasped together as Serena watched the earth from high above. The warmth of Bernie's touch, knowing that she was right there next to her, gave Serena a sense of safety she'd long since forgotten. She'd never particularly enjoyed flying, and while she hadn't told Bernie of her anxiety, it didn't exactly take a detective to see that being airborne was not on Serena's list of favorites.

As they passed through clouds and over the ocean, Bernie smiled in amusement at Serena's marveling. It was one of the things she loved most about the woman: her ability to find beauty in almost anything, even when she was frightened. Although Serena had made this trip before, this was the first time she and Bernie had flown together— let alone taken a trip anywhere. They'd been planning this for months now, though it hadn't felt real until they'd reached the gate.

When a flight attendant strolled down the aisle and stopped to ask for their drink orders, Serena looked up with a nervous smile, she asked, "I don't suppose you'd have any Shiraz onboard?"

"I'm sorry, Miss," the young man replied.

"I think water will have to do," Bernie said. Glancing out the window once again, Serena suddenly felt her heart quicken in pace. It wasn't until she felt Bernie squeeze her hand gently that she turned to face her partner. "We haven't much farther to go," Bernie informed. "We'll be back on the ground in no time."

"Yes. Yes, you're right." Serena shook her head and let out a slight laugh. "I don't know what it is, but I never can seem to shake these jitters. You'd think I'd never flown before in my life."

"Some of the men I worked with hated the choppers. It was a sodding getting from one base to another."

"I suspect they had better reason to be afraid." An awkward silence fell between them before the flight attendant returned with two plastic cups of water. Serena relished in the cold as it trickled down her throat, as if awakening her entire system. "The last time I went to Paris was right after my mother died," she revealed quietly.

Bernie lowered her cup and held it in her lap. "Did you two go often?" she asked casually.

With a slight shrug, Serena replied, "A few times"

"I see." One leg crossed over the other. Bernie fidgeted with the square napkin that had come with her drink.

"I still feel a bit of guilt going without her," Serena murmured.

When Serena simply sighed, Bernie decided to offer an anecdote of her own. "My father was always a bit partial to Athens. He never did explain why he found it so alluring." As she swirled the water in the cup, quietly wishing it were something stronger, she added, "The guilt doesn't last forever, you know."

Just as Serena peered over at Bernie, the speakers crackled and a friendly voice popped on. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We're about ready to make our initial descent, so if you would all please remain in your seats with your seat-belts on. Our flight attendants will be 'round to collect your disposables. On behalf of everyone here, thank you for flying with us today."

After they'd tossed out their empty glasses, Bernie and Serena rested back against their seats. Serena couldn't help but watch as they began to weave beneath the clouds; cars and buildings slowly started to return to average size, and the reflection of the sun ricocheted off of windows.

Before the wheels hit the ground, Serena reached for Bernie's hand once again and looked over at the woman. When Bernie kissed the back of Serena's hand, Serena felt herself smiling ever-so-slightly. So far, their little getaway wasn't so bad.


	3. What Are You Going to Do?

**Summary:**

It's a typical day for Bernie and Serena at the AAU. Until it isn't. || PTSD Warning

* * *

They're in the office when it happens. Bernie is sitting on the edge of her desk, Serena on the edge of her own. They pass a folder back and forth as they debate the best course of treatment for a patient who's just been admitted. Bernie lobbies for an exploratory laparotomy. Serena vies for a less invasive procedure, an ultrasound if possible.

The shades are open and the door is cracked. Nurses and bands of F1s shuffled about the ward as they tend to their charges, all combined together in a sea of different shades of blue. Jason passes by pushing an older gentleman in a wheelchair; he nods to his aunt Serena, who's too busy to take note of her nephew's gesture.

Serena shakes her head as she turns down another idea from Bernie. The lights on the ward flicker briefly, though no one thinks much of it. They've been a bit odd all week. Mr. Hanssen has already called in for a maintenance check.

Bernie is just about to push for the surgery once again when she leaves her body momentarily. A thunderous crack sends her flying towards Serena, practically tackling her to the ground. Bernie's arm covers the woman's head protectively, as if acting as a human helmet. She doesn't even notice that she's scraped her elbow against the metal leg of the desk.

Raf sticks his head through the door and his gaze falls to the doctors. "Are you two all—" When Serena shoots him a hard glare, he backs away slowly and closes the door behind him.

"Bernie?" Serena murmurs. Cautiously, she reaches for Bernie's hand. She notices the line of blood trickling down her wrist and gingerly touches Bernie's knee. "Bernie?" she tries again.

The ringing in Bernie's ears begins to fade, just as her vision clears once again. Soon, she sees Serena sitting upright and staring back at her with worried eyes. She looks down at the small wound and shakes her head. Bernie scrambles onto her feet, and Serena is right there beside her.

"I'm- I'm sorry," Bernie whispers, utterly mortified.

Her eyes still locked on Bernie, Serena reaches for her desk and snatches several tissues to cover Bernie's cut. "Sit," she orders softly.

"No, it's alright. I'm fine," Bernie dismisses, unable to meet Serena's gaze.

"Bernie," Serena says firmly. "Sit." Without any further protest, Bernie does as she's told.

From the window, Serena sees Raf watching at the station. She gestures for him to come back, and when he returns, she asks for iodine and bandages. He simply nods before stepping to it.

"Are you hurt?" Bernie finally chokes out. "Did I…?"

Still applying pressure to the bleeding, Serena peers over at the former army medic. "I'm not hurt," she assures. "You, on the other hand." There's a knock at the door. It's Raf. He's brought a bottle of disinfectant, gauze, tape, and several different sizes of bandages. Just to be safe. "Thanks," Serena acknowledges before he leaves them alone once again. Bernie doesn't even so much as wince as Serena cleans her arm. It's almost as if she's gone numb. "I suppose a laparotomy would be more efficient on our end. Ultrasounds aren't always conclusive."

Closing her eyes, Bernie clears her throat. "They are far less invasive, though," she sighs.

"True," Serena offers. "But what would you rather do if you were the patient? Have a procedure that could potentially tell us everything we need to know, even if it does hurt a bit, or waste time in an effort to save them the pain?" When the cut is cleaned and covered, Serena smoothes the bandage over Bernie's arm. "Right. You're all set here." As Serena disposes of the trash and cleans their make-shift station, she notices the maintenance crew having finally arrived on the ward. She nods towards the station and says, "It would seem that this hospital's aging faster than we are. One of the fixtures collapsed."

Bernie sits silently, ashamed and embarrassed. It's been months since her last episode. She hadn't told Serena. She didn't think she'd need to. Now, however, her secret was out.

"Sudden noises," Bernie finally says. "They, erm, seem to be a trigger." Serena nods to show she's listening. "It's ridiculous, really. I was hardly active duty."

"Saving lives… that's quite active, if you ask me."

Bernie shrugs. "Comes with the job."

Serena sats across from Bernie on the woman's desk. She wants to reach out again, to hold Bernie's hand, but she doesn't want to frighten her. "You may not have had a gun in your hands, but you fought nonetheless." When Bernie tries to give a grateful smile, Serena says, "Look. Why don't I book a theater for Mr. Johnson. Let's see what we're dealing with and then take it from there, all right?"

Bernie nods. "All right." As she stands up, she pauses in front of Serena, her heart pounding in her chest. "Serena, I'm—"

But Serena cuts her off. With the most tender of touches, she cradles the sides of Bernie's face and places a gentle kiss right above her fringe. Their foreheads rest against one another, and in that moment, Bernie feels lighter. She feels safe.


	4. You're the fire and the flood

**Summary** : Bernie and Serena meet in a bar. They're strangers to one another, and yet, there's a comfortability with each other. || Alternative introduction to 18x20, "All Fall Down."

 **Notes** : Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the reviews so far. If you've any suggestions or prompts, feel free to send them in! So far, these have been pretty short and sweet. I'm hoping to write a longer, more detailed one-shot in the future. Just bad timing right now since the semester is about to start up again. But I'll be back soon!

* * *

Serena's been there for almost an hour, quietly sipping on a glass of shiraz, saving each catapult of flavor. Whilst her co-workers mingle amongst each other, exchanging stories from their day on the ward, the brown-haired consultant keeps to herself. Even when Ric pops by for a quick drink, their conversation is kept to a few words.

It's nearly 10 when Serena begins fishing around her bag for her wallet. She's just barely managed to locate the damn thing when a woman takes the empty barstool beside her and lands with a huff. "Shot of tequila," she orders with a single tap on the counter; it isn't forceful or rude, but with enough oomph just enough to convey the urgency. When the small glass appears before her, she tosses it back like a pro and holds up a finger. "One more," she says, somewhat breathlessly.

Somewhat intrigued, Serena beckons to the bartender as he pours another round. "Add it to my tab."

"Oh, you don't need to—"

Serena cuts her off. "Don't worry about."

The blonde gives a slight nod of appreciation before gesturing to Serena's empty glass. "In that case, can I get you another…?"

"Shiraz," Serena reveals.

"Another shiraz it is then." She watches as the red liquid fills to the rim before reaching over and offering a hand. "Bernie," she introduces.

"Serena." As she swirls her freshly topped-off glass, she watches as Bernie swallows the tequila without so much as flinching. "Impressive," she says with a slight smirk. "Mind you, if I could still do that…" she trails off with a slight chuckle. Bernie covers her mouth with the backside of her hand, the burning sensation still on her tongue. "So, let's have a guess then," Serena sighs. "Job troubles or relationship troubles?"

Suddenly, the empty container in Bernie's grip grabs her attention. She examines the way the lights reflect off of the glass, the distortion of her own reflection. "Messy divorce," she murmurs.

Serena nods slowly. "Finalized, is it?" She notices Bernie's wedding band. "Welcome to the club."

"The what?"

"The Embittered Ex-Wives Club," Serena explains. "Surely you've heard of it," she says with a wink. Bernie makes eye contact with the barman once again and holds up her glass. He refills it without a single word. "It doesn't last forever, you know— the embarrassment. Eventually, breathing does get a bit easier."

Again, Bernie swallows the liquor in a single breath. This time, though, she lets out a slight groan. "I'm not embarrassed," she reveals. "I'm relieved."

"Oh, yes, well that sticks around for a while yet," Serena laughs. "It's the only way I knew I made the right decision."

Before she can stop herself, Bernie asks, "You don't regret it, then?"

Serena puckers her lips and gives the question a reasonable amount of consideration. "The only part I truly regret is our daughter feeling as though she had to choose between us."

Bernie scoffs. "I don't imagine that will be too difficult. He is a far better father than I was a mother. I was never there."

As Serena lets Bernie's confession sink in, she can't help but find herself drawn even more to the woman. The way her bangs hang so loosely above her eyes, the messy ponytail she's managed to put together, her slim, black pants. The way Bernie speaks as though she's afraid of her own words. "Are you there now?" Serena hears herself ask.

"Sorry?"

"Wherever your children are, do they know you're there for them now?"

Bernie shakes her head and shrugs. "I don't know," she confesses. "I hope so."

Serena, slightly more confident with a glass and half of wine in her system, reaches out and puts her hand on Bernie's. "Then rest will come when it comes." The bartender returns and offers Serena and Bernie another refill, but they both shakes their heads in unison.

Minutes later, they're standing across from one another in the parking lot, surrounded by a light fog. The neon lights from the sign flicker erratically and cars zoom by. Bernie and Serena, for all intents and purposes, are the only ones who exist. "Have you a ride?" Bernie wonders. Serena holds up her keys and presses a button. Tail lights blinker and a horn honks as she smiles. "You're all right to drive?"

Serena chuckles, and this time, Bernie gets goosebumps. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm just fine."

"Are you sure?" Bernie presses gently.

Raising an eyebrow, Serena says, "Why? Are you offering? You've had just as much to drink as I have."

Her hands in her coat pockets, Bernie simply shrugs. "I was in the army. It'll take a bit more than tequila shots to get the best of me."

Suddenly, Serena narrows her eyes at Bernie and mentally thumbs through the many notices she's received in the last few days. The pieces fit together, even now. "Berenice Wolfe," she finally says. "The Big Macho Army Medic. Well, I had hoped to meet under less… inebriated circumstances but," she holds out her hand, "Serena Campbell. Consultant and CEO of Holby General."

As they shake hands once again, this introduction feels far more friendly than the one in the bar. The ice had long since been broken, but still, Bernie felt her cheeks go red as and said, "Ah, well, I hope I haven't mucked it all up. Especially since I haven't even started it."

Serena adjusts her bag on her shoulder and sizes up Berenice Wolfe. Now that she can get a good look at her, the blonde is rather striking: her posture conveys a confidence her voice lacks. "I suppose that depends," Serena teases.

"On what?" Bernie asks.

Taking a step forward, Serena offers Bernie a gentle kiss on the cheek. "On whether or not I've mucked up the chances of… well…" And with that, Serena walks off towards her car. But, before getting in, she turns to Bernie who's watching after Serena. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Wolfe."


	5. Someday, I'll Breathe Again

**Summary** : Bernie and Serena are buying a home of their own. With Jason's help, they just might find where they belong.

 **Notes** : Last post before the semester picks back up tomorrow! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

There was much to discuss, much to plan. The logistics of it all were somewhat dizzying. Moving in together was not something either of the women approached lightly. It was a commitment they'd been anticipating, and while it was something they both wanted, they were both rather anxious about it. Although they'd stored a few of their own belongings at each other's place, neither Bernie's flat nor Serena's house felt like a shared home. And, as much as Bernie appreciated the independence, and Serena her house, the next step in their relationship was becoming ever-clearer to them.

Jason had bookmarked all of the places that he'd given his stamp of approval, all within the parameters that Bernie and Serena had laid out: within 30 minutes of the hospital, no fewer than three rooms, a garage, and with a backyard. And so, after days of scouring the internet, Jason presented the women with over 15 different listings. Together, Bernie and Serena sifted through photos, prices, locations. On the upside, they agreed on nearly half of the homes. On the downside, because they were so close to the city, they would all cost a pretty penny to own. Between the two, though, they were confident that they could find the "right one."

It was nearly impossible to meet with an estate agent. Every time there seemed to be an opening, either Serena or Bernie were called into theater, trapped for at least six hours. By the time they were finished, they'd lost their time slot. Finally, however, after weeks of cancellations and many apologies, Serena, Bernie, and Jason visited the first home on their list.

It was a modest dwelling. It fit all the criteria. The walls were white and the fireplace made of stone. Wood floors, carpeted stairs. The kitchen and the dining room were combined, though it made for a rather stuffy space. The bathrooms were shower only, no tubs. And half of the windows were frosted. It wasn't unattractive, by any means. It just wasn't the one.

The second home was a bit more comfortable. Two floors. Off-white paint. Carpeted living room, separate dining room and kitchen. From the master bedroom, one could see a faint silhouette of the city. But still, something was missing. There was a formality to it all; imagining a life there proved to be a bit more difficult than it should have been.

By the fourth house, Jason had begun to ask Serena and Bernie why they were being so picky. As the sun had just begun to lower behind the horizon, he was also growing a bit hungry. He didn't understand why neither of them like the third option, as it was exactly what they had described to him. He was beginning to get a bit restless, bored of it all. All of the places they'd seen would do just nicely, he thought. If you asked him, Serena and Bernie were just being snobs.

Alas, when they arrived at the fifth location, Serena knew the moment they stepped over the threshold. Bernie did too, Serena could sense by the blonde's slight intake of breath; it wasn't a gasp, really, so much as a self-assured inhale. Wood floors in the living room, with a brick fireplace and a mantle for photos. The kitchen was lined with linoleum and the counters were made from granite. Attached to the dining room was a wooden deck that outlooked the backyard.

Upstairs, the master bedroom had its own washroom, as well as a walk-in closet big enough for both of them. Although it didn't have the same view as the second house, the tops of trees for miles proved to be just as breathtaking. While Jason waited downstairs, jaded to the whole bit, Serena and Bernie exchanged a silent smile and held hands.

"Well, what do you think?" Serena asked, her heart pounding rapidly.

Bernie gestured down the hall. "There's enough space for the kids," she mused.

"Even with Jason in his own room. Providing they don't all descend upon us at once," the shorter of the two chuckled. She followed Bernie back down onto the first floor, where Jason was (im)patiently waiting for them by the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back.

Their estate agent, far more gracious than Jason, turned to the women with a hopeful smile. "Right, well, I don't think we'll need to see any more, do you?" Serena asked Bernie, though she already knew the answer.

When Bernie shook her head, the agent cheered. "Fantastic! If you haven't any questions, we can get started on the paperwork!"

Jason was quick to follow, as he was eager to go off to dinner. Serena was next, in a bit of shock that this was finally happening. After giving Bernie a gentle kiss, she disappeared into the dining room, where the agent began explaining what each document meant. Bernie, however, stayed standing in the living room, her hands in her pocket. She scanned the empty room and quietly imagined what it would look like with furniture; she pictured Cam and Charlotte sitting together on the couch, Jason in his favorite chair, Elinor stumbling through the door, late to the party. She thought of the many holidays and birthdays they would share here, the celebrations of life and happiness. And then, in the midst of the slideshow that played in her mind, she imagined Serena and herself, standing beside one another, her arms wrapped around Serena. Bernie was finally home.


	6. Start Again

**Summary** : Serena continues to grieve for Elinor. In an effort to support her, Bernie suggests they take a trip. Just the two of them.

 **Notes** : I know everyone's still reeling from that episode, and I know there are a ton of fics about the aftermath. Not to add to the mess, but...

* * *

The pain never lessened. Not really. Some days, she woke up and managed to go about her day without letting any tears escape. But other days, she felt as though she were barely keeping her head above water; as if she were standing still while the world continued to spin. It was the little things really. The small stuff that she'd never noticed before. A week after Elinor died, when Serena finally managed to stop crying, she drove past a bed of Lillies: Ellie's favorite flower. And just like that, she was sucked under once again; devoured by the wave of grief she was sure she'd never escape.

She wasn't sure which had been more painful: the moment Elinor's heart stopped beating, or saying goodbye to her as she was lowered into the earth. Both felt as nightmarish as ever. Serena kept thinking it was all just a dream, that she'd wake up from the terror and Elinor would be just a phone call away. But alas, after a month, it finally hit her that her daughter was gone.

Everyday, Serena stumbled across something that reminded her of Elinor: a color, a song, a sodding foodstation. There was no escaping the mourning. It wasn't until the second month that Serena allowed herself to smile once again. It wasn't a complete smile, but it was enough for her to feel a shock flow through her system. Fletch had just told some dirty joke. It wasn't even that funny, really. And yet, Serena found herself smirking slightly as she overheard the comment. Bernie had noticed this as well. She'd been keeping an eye on Serena from across the room, casually stealing a glance every few minutes. She just happened to have looked up at the right moment.

At first, she'd buried herself in her work. Everyone noticed. They watched as Serena ran herself ragged about the ward, booking surgery after surgery, hardly changing out of her scrubs. But then, after a few weeks, she relented and allowed Raf and Morven to assist.

For Serena, time was both a cruel tease and a generous gift; Elinor's had been stolen from her, but Serena's was begging to be taken advantage of. All of the milestones in Elinor's that she'd witnessed, all of the milestones she would never get to experience. Sometimes, it made Serena so angry she wanted to scream.

* * *

It was the middle of spring when Bernie asked Serena to go away with her. Just for the night. She promised to organize everything, so long as Serena wished to go. Although her first instinct was to remain at the AAU, Serena felt herself surrender to Bernie's offer.

It was a small cottage in the countryside, about 20 minutes from the nearest town and 10 from the closest neighbor. A long, gravel road wound up to the stone-house, just enough space for their rented vehicle. Serena had been watching the scenery from the window, in awe at the luscious green grass and vibrant trees. When they arrived, one corner of her mouth twitched at the gorgeous domicile.

Bernie cooked for them that evening. A nice and simple, yet still elegant, pasta with eggplant parmesan. It was, of course, accompanied by a bottle of Shiraz. They sat across from one another, shared stories about work on the few days they'd missed each other, stole glances at each other when one wasn't looking. There was a chuckle here and there, a gasp of admiration at a surgery the other had pulled off. Even bits of idle gossip made their way into the were a few pauses now and then, moments in which Bernie could feel Serena struggling to stay engaged. She sat across from the shorter woman, all of her attention focused on Serena.

"It's a good thing you're a doctor. If you stare any harder, I may get a burn." Serena's slight attempt at a joke fell flat when Bernie quickly averted her gaze. "I'm sorry," Serena murmured. "No, no, it's all right. I'm the one to apologize," Bernie sighed. She offered Serena back against the wooden chair, Serena gestured to the inside of the cottage and nodded approvingly. "It's quite beautiful, this is," she said. "If only there were homes like this in London."

Bernie rested her right hand on the crook of her left elbow. "I'm glad there aren't," she said casually. "I don't mind a rest from the city now and then. I love the quiet here."

Turning to Bernie, Serena searched the woman's eyes. "Dinner was fabulous," she said, yet another attempt to keep the mood light. "Tell me, if you can cook like this, why are you always taking me out?"

With a modest shrug, Bernie confessed, "It's a new development." When Serena tilted her head, Bernie explained, "I've been practicing. I've prepared meals for Jason a few nights when… well, it's a new hobby."

"Oh, I see," Serena said before taking another sip of wine. Although she'd taken it easy at the hospital, there were a few occasions where she got wrapped up in the work. "Right, in any case, it was delicious. My compliments to the chef," she winked as she raised her glass.

When Serena finished her wine, Bernie placed her napkin beside her plate. "Care for a walk?"

* * *

Their arms linked together, Bernie and Serena trekked gradually through the grass. The sun was just setting over the horizon, a pink glow spread across the sky. Serena's cheeks were a bit flushed from the wine, but she was still quite sober.

"Why Wales?" Serena asked suddenly as they sat at the base of a tree. The earth was cold and hard, but Bernie was soft and warm.

Her legs stretched out on front of her, one crossed over the other, Bernie looked out at the view before them. A slight breeze blew past and rustled the fringe above her eyes. "I thought it would be a nice break from it all," she said. "It was for me."

Serena peered over at her lover and cocked an eyebrow. "You've been here before?"

Bernie nodded solemnly. "A year after Charlotte was born." Her hands clasped together in her lap, she braced herself for what she was about to share with Serena. "Marcus and I, we... " The words were harder to let out than she'd imagined. It had been years since she'd told anyone. "I had a miscarriage," she finally said. "I was in-between tours. It wasn't planned. I didn't even know I was..."

A moment of silence passed between them as Serena processed Bernie's admission. "I didn't know."

Shaking her head, Bernie said, "Neither do Cam or Charlotte."

Gently, Serena reached for Bernie's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry."

Still staring at the world around her, Bernie cleared her throat. "I know it isn't the same thing and… God, I wouldn't dream of-" The words weren't coming out right, much to Bernie's frustration. She felt Serena go rigid next to her, heard the slight catch of breath. She hadn't meant to compare the two. Where Serena had given birth to, raised, and loved a child, Bernie didn't even the gender. But still, something told her Serena would still understand. "We came here after I… after it happened," Bernie picked up. "The kids stayed with Marcus's parents. I suppose he thought this would fix everything."

"And, erm, is that what you think?" Serena wondered, her voice a near whisper. Bernie shifted to look Serena in the eye. "I know it won't," she said. "The pain won't go away. Blimey, I don't know if it's supposed to." Serena swiftly flicked away a tear as it rolled down her cheek, silently rebuking herself for wavering. "It's alright, Serena. It's alright to cry. It's alright to laugh."

But Serena just shook her head. "I can't," she whimpered.

Bernie wrapped her arm around Serena and pulled her in close. When Serena tucked her head in Bernie's neck, the army medic combed the woman's brown hair tenderly. Bernie didn't say anything else. She didn't think she needed to. She sat and held Serena as Serena sobbed into her, and they stayed like that until the stars came evening, Serena fell asleep in Bernie's arms, just as she had the last few months. Her eyes were still a bit pink and there was a slight pounding in her head, but as she lay nestled in Bernie's grasp, Serena let out a long exhale before drifting off into dreamland. The sound of Bernie's heart beating served as the perfect , that night, for the first night in months, Serena slept soundly. Memories of Elinor played like a video from a projector: her first steps, her first missing tooth, her high school graduation. Even if it was just for one night, Serena got to see her daughter again.


	7. Shades of Berena

**Summary** : Bernie has different associations for different colors. Some are better than others, and some catch her by surprise. | Contrary to the reference in the chapter title, this is totally G-rated.

 **Notes** : Hey there! Thanks so much for all the reviews and kudos so far. I'm really glad you're enjoying these stories! I apologize in advance for any typos- I just got really excited with this chapter, haha.

* * *

Black. That's the color of the velvet box she keeps hidden in her desk drawer. A strip of gold wraps around the outside, as if sealing it shut. She's had it for months, now. No one suspects a thing— at least, she hopes not. After all, she is in the business of saving lives. One small distraction, one tiny miscalculation can lead to catastrophic events; that's how it is in the army, a career she knows she'll never truly escape. It's realization she's come to two years into her time at Holby. And it's one she's made peace with.

Blue. It's the first color she sees when she steps onto the AAU in the mornings and the last color when she clocks off. A stark contrast from the green she'd worn in the army; far brighter than any piece of clothing she'd ever owned of her own accord. Though it is typically the last thing on her mind, Bernie isn't particularly fond of the loudness of their uniform. She still isn't accustomed to the cheery nature it seems to produce from the other doctors and nurses. It's a trauma unit— what is there to be cheery about?

Red. It's her least favorite color, and yet one she encounters far too often— not just when she drinks wine. It's her job, and yet, blood still makes her frown; holding a person's heart in your hands, getting assaulted by a bleeder in the middle of the ward. She's used to power and being in command, but no one should be in control of another person's life. And yet, here she is, day in and day out.

Brown. The color of her son's hair and eyes, the same color of her lover's hair and eyes. It's not so dark that it makes her sad, but no so bright that she begins to squirm. It's nearly the perfect shade, really.

Green. It sits within the small box she keeps in her desk. After careful selection, she knew that this was the right one. It was one of the few things she was most sure about.

* * *

Bernie stares out across from her and tries to imagine Serena at her desk. She tries to picture the woman's brown hair and brown eyes, having just changed out of her blue scrubs and thrown out the smock with red smeared across it. The black box is still locked away, encased around the green contents. Bernie feels her own heart begin to pound as the second-hand on the clock ticks by loudly.

When Serena finally appears, Bernie greets her with a warm smile. The woman has, indeed, changed out of her operating uniform and back into her leopard print shirt; it hangs from her form gracefully in that way that hypnotizes Bernie, just as all of Serena's shirts do.

Serena notices Bernie staring and clears her throat. "I said, are we ready?" There a slight hitch in her question as she stifles a bit of laugher.

"Oh, erm, yes. Ready," Bernie says as she gathers her bag and coat. She gestures to the door, "After you." But, before Serena has left, Bernie says suddenly, "Actually, there is one thing first."

Quickly, Bernie rushes to her desk and hunches over, ignoring the twinge in her back. Serena checks her watch impatiently as the drawer clicks shut once again. Both hands wrapped around the box, Bernie slowly turns back to face Serena. "This is for you."

"What is it?" Serena asks curiously.

Bernie merely shrugs. "Open it."

Ever-so-gingerly, Serena does as she's instructed and lift the top off. When she sees the stone on the silver band, she exhales loudly. "Emerald," she whispers, her eyes stinging slightly. "Elinor's birth stone. How did you—" She looks up at the blonde in shock and when she catches Bernie's timid expression she wonders, "Is this… are you asking…"

Before she knows it, Bernie's taken Serena by the hand and led her to the chairs by the door. She can feel her cheeks flaring up, but she forges on. "I… I just want you to know that I am committed to you, Serena. I care for you very deeply and… well, I know I'm not great with words."

Serena's throat is dry. All she can do is stare at Bernie. "That doesn't answer my question," she manages to say.

Bernie blinks rapidly beneath her fringe. "Which one?"

"Are you… proposing?" Serena muses in a steady tone.

Slowly, Bernie brings herself to look at Serena. "I suppose that depends. What would you say if I were?"

Her lips parted in shock, Serena flicks away a tear in the corner of her eye. "Well, there's only one way to find out." She holds the box back out to Bernie and waits expectantly. "Go on," she encourages.

When Bernie takes it back, she chews on her bottom lip momentarily before locking eyes with Serena. She never thought she'd be doing this, least of all not at their workplace. Yet somehow, it just felt right. As she sat across from Serena, in that moment, Bernie had never felt braver. "Serena Campbell," she breathes slowly, "will you marry me?"

Serena gazes at Bernie for a second— a second that feels like a 100 years for Bernie— before cracking a smile. "Oh, you bloody fool," she says. "Of course I'll marry you." Their lips crash together in a passionate kiss as Serena cradles Bernie's head. And this time, when the tears begin to fall, Serena lets them.

Yellow is Serena's favorite color. It's the color of her favorite fruit. It's the color of her favorite brand of Shiraz. And it's the color of her fiancé's hair. Of the three, the last is the one she can't live without.


	8. Any Given Place

**Summary** : Bernie and Serena are on their way to dinner when they happen upon a minor inconvenience. Is Bernie, the Big Macho Army Medic, the one to save the day? Or does Serena, Deputy CEO of Holby, rescue them?

 **Notes** : Don't know why I couldn't get this out of my head. Heads up for boring mechanic instructions, haha.

* * *

It was meant to be a relaxing evening. Dinner for two at that new French restaurant just outside of the city. Some wine, perhaps a bit of whiskey. A nice dessert, chocolate of course. It'd been weeks since they'd gotten any time together, just the two of them. It seemed as if the only conversations they had were before falling asleep or in the car on the way to work. Both Serena and Bernie were rather looking forward to their little date night.

Sat in the passenger's seat of Bernie's car, Serena found herself distracted by the woman behind the wheel. Every so often, she'd watch through her window and stare up at the stars that had already come out to greet them, twinkling bright in the night's sky.

"Eyes on the road," Serena said through a cheeky grin when she noticed that Bernie had been stealing glances at her. Chic, blonde shag brushed against Bernie's shoulders as she offered Serena brief smirk.

Bernie did as she was instructed, though not without reaching for Serena's hand beneath the shadow. When their skin made contact, a warmth radiated through Bernie's body. It always happened. And she never grew tired of it. "Have you reminded Jason that we'll be out late?" she asked.

"Yes," Serena nodded. "I dare say, he was rather excited at the prospect of having the telly to himself tonight."

"Was he? Is there a Dr. Who marathon we don't know about?"

A light chuckle slipped through Serena's lips. "I should hope not. I haven't the faintest idea what's happening when I see it with my own eyes, and Jason only gets frustrated when he tries to explain it all."

Bernie kissed the back of Serena's hand tenderly, amused at her lover's apathy for science fiction. Though she herself wasn't certain of the plot, Bernie was able to follow enough to talk to Jason about it.

She was just about to offer Serena exclusive tutoring sessions when a sharp pop caused her to swerve and pull to the side of the road. "Are you alright?" she gasped as the car passed them and blared their horn.

Serena did a mental checklist of herself and then scanned Bernie as well before nodding. "What on earth…?"

Before Serena could finish her sentence, Bernie had leapt out of the car, her door still open. "Bloody hell!"

It wasn't long before Serena joined Bernie at the bumper. The cool air nipped at her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. Her jaw nearly hit the ground when she saw what Bernie was glaring at. The back right tire had blown. It was completely shot. Kneeling down as best she could, Bernie took a moment to examine the damage.

"Something tells me we're not going to make our reservation," Serena sighed. "Have you got a service you can call?" Shaking her head, Bernie stood up and ran a hand through her hair. "Then you must have a spare?"

"In the boot," Bernie muttered.

"And you know how to, erm, do that?" Bernie nodded absentmindedly, still somewhat shaken by the sudden noise the tire had made. "Right, then, we should be on our way in a tick, hm?" Slowly, Bernie's pulse returned to its normal rate as she leaned against her car. "Bernie?" she heard Serena murmur.

Pulling herself out of her shock, Bernie let out a calming breath. "Here," she started, "I'll walk you through it."

"Me?" Serena scoffed. "You're having a laugh."

Her hands stuffed into her coat pockets, Bernie shrugged helplessly. "I'd do it if I could. Only, I, erm… I haven't been to physio and…"

"Of course. You're back," Serena realized. With a heavy sigh, she rolled up her sleeves, tucked her scarf into her collar, and mentally prepared herself. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'm calling to book you an appointment," she grumbled as she reached for the extra tire. With Bernie's help, she managed to drag it out of the boot and rest it on the ground.

"Here you are," Bernie said as she passed along a four-armed tool. "Mind you, it's a bit awkward."

"I know how to hold a bloody wrench," Serena huffed as she snatched the metal object, quietly surprised how heavy it was. She'd never admit it to Bernie, of course. At least, not yet.

Bent over slightly at the waist, careful not to strain her back, Bernie hovered over Serena as the brunette began loosening the lug nuts. When Serena struggled to unscrew the last one, Bernie couldn't help but remember the unfortunate patient with pipe predicament and had to stifle a laugh.

"All right, now just slide this right… there," Bernie instructed as she helped Serena place the jack under the depleted tire. "Now, you'll want that about half a foot high." Serena began cranking the jack, and as the car began to raise in height, she felt a small twinge of pride in her handiwork thus far. "And after these come off," Bernie began, pointing to the lug nuts, "the tire should just—"

"Ha!" Serena cheered when she pulled the hunk of rubber off of the hub. One corner of Bernie's mouth twitched as she shared in Serena's excitement.

Gesturing to the replacement, Bernie said, "Shall we?" Serena tilted her dimpled chin, a coy smile slowly spreading across her lips. Once again, Serena relied on Bernie's strength to complete the task. When the tire was firmly set on the hub, Bernie picked up the wrench and said, "You do the honors."

Much like surgery, closing up was far easier than opening. Now that everything had been mended, Serena felt a bit more confident than she had going in. She went about tightening the lug nuts and lowering the jack as if it were already old-hat. With the adrenaline still pumping through her system, she even tossed the flat tire into the boot on her own— granted, it was a bit lighter.

When everything had been put away and Bernie made certain that the new tire was on right, she turned to Serena with a smile of admiration. "Brilliant. You did perfect."

"Who would have thought it: Serena Campbell, surgeon _and_ mechanic," Serena said with a wink.

Peeking at her watch, Bernie offered, "You know, we are only 10 minutes from home. If you wanted to wash up before—"

"Nonsense!" Serena dismissed. "I'm sure they've got a washroom at the restaurant. Anyways, I've just changed a tire for the first time. I do believe that calls for a celebration! A bottle of Shiraz, maybe?" Careful not to get any grime on Bernie, Serena leaned in, placed a kiss on Bernie's lips, and echoed Bernie's question. "Shall we?"


	9. Good Grief

**Summary** : It's nearly Serena's birthday, her first since Elinor's passing. Bernie wants it to be special- to be whatever Serena needs it to be. || A bit of grief, fluff, fluff, and more fluff.

 **Notes** : Sorry for the lack of updates recently. This semester is totally kicking my butt. Here's a little fluff piece for now!

* * *

Mornings hurt the most. The act of waking up to a new day, and for the briefest of moments, forgetting it all. But then, it would happen. Serena would remember and that same, cold hand would clamp around her heart, tighten its grip, and break it into piece all over again. And it wasn't long before guilt washed over her, angry that she could ever— even for a second— forget.

In the wake of Elinor's passing, days moved like weeks, and the months moved like years. Somehow, the world around Serena Campbell had continued to turn, endlessly cycling around her as she stood still. Her work, once her safe-haven, had become nothing more than an obligation. Everyday, she went through the motions as if on autopilot; signed the necessary paperwork, tended to the necessary procedures. Saving lives had become something of a cruel slap to Serena, as she felt she'd failed to save her own daughter.

She read Elinor's last article every night before going to sleep. She'd sit up against the headboard and lean into the light from the lamp on her nightstand, a hand over her chest as Elinor's voice played in her head. Though she'd come to memorize the first few sentences of the piece, there was something about holding a physical manifestation of her daughter— seeing the thoughts that Elinor had pieced together, had invested so much of herself in.

Some nights, Bernie sat up beside Serena, feigning interest in her own book. Mostly, she just wanted to keep an eye on the grieving woman; it didn't feel right to fall asleep while Serena choked back tears in an effort not to make noise. Bernie knew that— no matter how much time elapsed— there would always be a missing piece to Serena's heart.

* * *

Nearly three months had gone by. 103 days. In some respects, Serena's life was just beginning to return to normal. Slowly, she allowed herself the little pleasures once again; a smile here and then, an unguarded laugh or giggle, a hug from the one woman she trusted the most. The agony was still very present, but Serena was finding ways to cope.

Bernie often kept a close eye on Serena during their shifts. She'd been balancing more than her fair share of work, and though she'd never let it show, Bernie was quietly losing steam. Any time a trauma arrived, whether it was a young woman of Elinor's age or an older gentleman of 70, Bernie was the first to arrive. Especially now with Jason back at work, Bernie ran herself ragged up and down the ward.

Serena's birthday was just around the corner, yet another item on Bernie's list. She'd been planning a quiet evening just the two of them, knowing full well that Serena didn't want a big do as it would be her first birthday without Elinor. And so, Bernie respected Serena's wishes. It'd been weeks since they'd gotten to spend any time alone, and it'd been longer since they'd been… them. They saw each other every day, and yet, Bernie missed Serena a great deal.

* * *

Trapped in theatre for nearly four hours, the blonde consultant had lost all track of time. What was meant to be a routine appendectomy turned into a splenic repair when an unsuspecting, and overly ambitious, F1 went in guns blazing. The poor lad had never seen so much blood in his life. If it hadn't been for Bernie, they would have surely lost the patient.

Her back aching and her vision a bit blurry from exhaustion, Bernie shuffled back to the office as fast as she could.

"I'm sorry. We had a bit of a surprise in theatre," she piped when she found Serena waiting for her; a navy shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she stood by the coat rack in an elegant black dress and her lips painted a brilliant red. Bernie stole a glance at Serena and blinked in awe, her breath hitching slightly. "Wow… you look…"

Serena offered a sly grin and struck a pose, her black heels reflecting the light from above. It had been a while since she'd last made Bernie blush; Serena had almost forgotten what it felt like.

While Bernie scrambled to pack her bag and tidy her desk, Serena couldn't help but check the time. It was already half seven. Their reservation had been made for 6:45. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I don't know if we're going to make our date. You're not yet dressed, love."

Reaching for the bag of clothes she'd packed away that morning, Bernie held up the sack triumphantly. "I'll be just a mo," she promised before heading towards the door. But, Serena blocked her before she could leave. "Oi!"

"Bernie," Serena began quietly, closing the door behind her. "It's all right. I'd be just as happy with a take-away and a night at home."

"But—"

"Really," Serena assured.

As Bernie searched Serena's eyes, as she held Serena's gaze, she could see how tired the woman was— how the smile she'd been wearing all day was wavering, how her armor was just beginning to crack. "Right," Bernie nodded. "Take-away it is, then."

* * *

Several hours later, Bernie and Serena were sitting together on the couch, content after a curry dinner and a shared bottle of Shiraz. Her head against Bernie's chest, Serena curled into the blonde woman's side, now in the comfort of loose trousers and an oversized shirt. "Thank you for tonight."

"Of course." Bernie could hear the sadness in Serena's voice, and it killed her that she couldn't do anything to take the pain away. But then, she remembered something. "You ready to open your presi?"

"What?" Serena peered up at Bernie. "You didn't have to—"

Before Serena could finish, Bernie rose from the sofa and disappeared. A few moments later, she returned with her hands behind her back. "I didn't get a chance to wrap it properly," she said, somewhat guilty. Her bottom lip tucked in, she passed the gift to Serena and sat beside her.

It was black. Leather-bound. Engraved in gold. _Of Lions and Lambs_ , the cover read. Bernie watched as Serena grazed the lettering, almost as though she were afraid to touch the words. Just below the title, was the name _Elinor Campbell_.

"The original is still on your shelf," Bernie said. "I just thought you might want something more… durable."

Her eyes tingling with tears, Serena flipped through the pages. It was all there. Every single word. Turning to face Bernie, Serena hugged the book to her chest. "Bernie," she whispered, nearly speechless. "Thank you," she finally said. Flicking away a tear that had escaped, she cupped Bernie's face and leaned in for a gentle kiss.

When they pulled away, Bernie smiled that same smile. "Happy birthday, Serena."


End file.
